


Happy Birthday, Harleen Quinzel

by orphan_account



Series: 2020 spring fic bingo! [1]
Category: Birds of Prey (And the Fantabulous Emancipation of One Harley Quinn) (2020), DC Extended Universe, DCU (Comics)
Genre: F/F, First Kiss, Fluff, Happy Birthday Harleen Quinzel, Romantic Fluff, Singing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-18
Updated: 2020-04-18
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:01:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,648
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23724982
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: It's Harley's birthday and the only thing she wants is for Dinah to sing for her at her party.
Relationships: Dinah Lance/Harleen Quinzel
Series: 2020 spring fic bingo! [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1726183
Comments: 1
Kudos: 47





	Happy Birthday, Harleen Quinzel

“Come on, what’s a girl gotta do to get you to sing a birthday song?” Harley pouts, before getting distracted by the ice cream van on the street.

She swerves to the opposite side of the road and snatches a strawberry cone from a child walking along, and her eyes light up when they’re in front of her face.

“Harley, the road!” Dinah yells, before being violently tugged back into their lane.

“Ooh, sprinkles,” Harley says. She licks the top of the ice cream clean, as Dinah rolls her eyes.

“That wasn’t necessary.”

“No, but what is, is for me to have _some_ type of entertainment at my birthday party. Come on! It’ll be fun! You’ve been so busy lately, running off with Batsy and the boys, stopping crime and yada-yada. I miss the days when it was the two of us, ya know?”

“And Huntress?”

“Yeah, but she’s always been so quiet. And she can’t bring a crowd like you do. Come on, whaddaya say? It’s one night only, and it’ll make me real happy—and! You know for a fact that I won’t be out causing trouble in the streets because you’ll be with me all night!”

It was infallible logic. Harley has always had a knack for hard-to-win arguments that shouldn’t make sense, though little about her ever does. Dinah has gotten used to it pretty quick, and she’s noticed that Harley even holds some degree of admiration for her.

Sure, she doesn’t brag about it to her circle, but her and Harley Quinn are actually alright.

“Okay, I’ll do it,” she answers.

Harley licks her fingers clean from the ice-cream cone, now long gone. Her eyes literally sparkle as she turns towards Dinah.

“You will?”

“But you owe me one, okay? You said so yourself, it’s been a while since we’ve been out there kicking ass. I might need your help one of these days.”

“Well, look at you, Miss Lance! And here I thought you didn’t miss me as much as I missed you,” she laughed out loud as she ran two red lights in a row. “You’ve got yourself a deal, ma’am. Harley Quinn, at your service!”

-

When Harley Quinn says she’s throwing a party, you’d be a fool to try to guess what to expect. The address Harley sends is an abandoned pier by Gotham riverside. It had been under construction just a couple of years ago, until Penguin took it over and seized the entire property. It had been no man’s land since then; neither the cops nor did any rival gangs attempt to claim it. But somehow, Harley’s managed to bag a deal with someone out there to turn it into her personal wonderland for the night.

Dinah arrives by the docks and there are explosions going off from the Ferris wheel; a group of girls drinking and dancing on boats circling around the area; and teenagers running around. Dinah isn’t even sure if she’s at the right place, for starters.

As she walks through the smoke and the crowds, there’s a gigantic arrow that points to a door coming out of the ground. It’s pink and there are flashing lights around it—loud and abrasive.

She smiles, stepping through the door and carefully making her way down the steps. She walks through a curtain of sequins and sees what looks like a private establishment.

The touch of Harley everywhere is unmistakable. Pink cocktails served on glittered trays. Beautiful women left and right. Satin tables and colourful chairs that don’t match at all, it’s like a rainbow has thrown up into a sink.

“Look, there she is!” Harley says from across the room, jumping over a table to run towards Dinah. “You look gorgeous. My, my, little birdy has not come out to play tonight.”

“Not so bad yourself, Harley. Happy birthday,” she replies. Harley’s in a feathery pink and white dress, with a patchwork of hearts all over, and these studded red shoes that look like she could take the stage with an electric guitar right about now.

She claps her hands and grins wide, “Are you ready for your performance? We’ve got a very special guest tonight. I’ve got plans for us.”

Dinah raises an eyebrow. “You didn’t mention any plans. Should I be worried?”

“No, of course not! I think you’ll like it. It involves doing that thing you capes love doing so much, cleaning up messes and whatnot. But you gotta sing first! I can’t wait to hear you.”

It’s not hard to tell whenever Harley really means something. Not that she’s not genuine pretty much all of the time—she says the first thing that pops into her head every minute of every day—but she never lingers on a thought for too long. At first, Dinah thought it was strange that Harley was so insistent on having her sing for her birthday.

But now, it’s clear that she’s been thinking about this—about _her_ , all this time.

As promised, Dinah takes the stage and does what she does best. She performs a rock n’ roll version of Juice Newton’s _Angel of the Morning_ and _Be My Baby_ by The Ronnettes.

She walks through the audience seated at their tables and reaches Harley at hers, leaning over to dance over her lap.

_“Oh, since the day I saw you, I have been waiting for you. You know I will adore you 'til eternity…”_

Harley blushes—hard—when she’s really flustered. It’s not hard to tell, even beneath the powder-white makeup. Her eyes glaze over, as she bites her lip and watches Dinah’s ever movement above her.

_“So won't you, please? Be my little baby, say you'll be my darling.”_

Dinah brushes her fingers under Harley’s chin and she closes her eyes, leaning in for a kiss, but Dinah just places a finger on her lips and winks at her as she walks back towards the stage.

The performance is met with a rousing round of applause and she thanks everyone before disappearing again in the crowd. She looks for Harley among the men in suits, criminals and businessmen alike (though they’re one in the same) and the flurry of feathery cocktail dresses going around.

Someone grabs her by the wrist and she gets dragged into what looks like the cloakroom closet. She turns to the side to see Harley, leaning against the wall with eyes that look softer than she’s ever seen them.

“You were so beautiful out there, birdy. I knew I chose the right person to come make my birthday special,” Harley says, a little unsteady. Her voice was missing the typical brazen sting in it.

“You’re a friend, Harley,” Dinah says, as Harley wraps a hand around her waist and pulls her in closer. “You enjoy the show?”

She nods. “Oh, very much so.”

“Yeah?” she smiles, leaning into her and placing both hands over her exposed collarbone. They’re hot to the touch, and Dinah can feel where her pulse feels the strongest on her neck.

Harley leans in a little closer, but it’s Dinah who pulls her in to seal the kiss.

Her lips are warm as Dinah gently cups her face in her hands. She doesn’t know what’s come over her, but she knows that Harley cares about her more than she cares about most people—and she feels the same way.

Ever since that day outside Roman’s club, Dinah hasn’t stopped thinking about her. Not just because she was busy worrying about what she was getting into herself next—Harley’s perfectly capable of handling herself most of the time—but because whatever she did after never felt half as thrilling or exciting as it did when they were together.

In Gotham, everyone’s got a fuse. You choose the spark to light yours.

As they pull away, Harley’s eyes are lit up like tiny moons in the dark. She looks excited, but also slightly embarrassed, as if no one’s ever touched her, or kissed her like that before.

“There’s no one like you, Harley,” Dinah says.

And for the first time, the cat gets her tongue.

They kiss for several more moments before Harley realizes that they're quickly getting ahead of themselves for the night. Dinah unhooks her hand from the front cup of Harley's bra, as Harley stops them both.

“Wait, wait! Urgh, this was supposed to all done by now but of course the diva’s gotta show up late,” she huffs.

“Who are you talking about? What’s happening?”

Harley pushes the door open slightly and peers out in the crowd. “Let’s just say I invited a longtime friend of mine to try to strike a deal regarding getting us some protection.”

“Protection? Harley, what are you talking about?”

Dinah pushed the door shut with an arm and cornered her again. Harley laughs nervously and throws her hands up in a shrug.

“I owe a couple of people some money, one of whom technically owns this place?”

“Penguin? How much money?”

Harley rushes for the door again and that’s when Dinah sees him walking into the place. It’s Bruce Wayne. He doesn’t look happy when he catches her gaze. Harley gives him a little wave.

“I’m not even going to ask why you know Bruce Wayne, or why he’d help you, but I’ll come with you when you speak with him.” Dinah holds her hand, fingers splaying in between hers, and everything suddenly just feels, better.

“Oh, everyone’s got a price in Gotham, baby, even Bruce Wayne—and I’ve got just the thing that’ll make him talk.” She breaks out into mad laughter, like there’s a joke in there somewhere Dinah doesn’t understand. But when it comes to Harley, it doesn’t do anyone any good to try to understand her. All she knows is that it’s the two of them, side by side, and that’s always been enough.


End file.
